


Peter Parker Fucks the Multiverse

by zarabithia



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Blowjobs, Crossover Pairings, Light Praise Kink, M/M, Multiple Crossovers, Superpower Sex, justice league orgies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	1. DCEU Batman

**Author's Note:**

> Peter is NOT aged up here. If that's not your thing, that's cool, but also I don't care.

The thing is, the universe didn't like Peter Parker very much. Peter knows this. Peter accepts this. Peter has given up arguing with the universe about this. 

Somewhere between having to fight against his uncle's favorite childhood hero and having to tell Mister Stark "Thanks, but no thanks" on joining the Avengers, Peter is pretty sure that he's developed a rather zen approach to the whole "universe hates me" deal. 

But that was before Peter had to deal with the multiverse. One universe hating him was enough. He was reasonable enough to suck it up and act like an adult about that. But apparently, there are multiple universes out there, and the one true thing they all have in common?

They all want to use Peter Parker for a punching bag.

~

For those keeping score at home? That is how he ends up on the receiving end of both a bomb and a very angry ... clown.

A clown. 

Peter is trying to laugh his way out of it, except his back is still a tiny bit sore. He's not even sure that's why his back hurts. The whole blinding light that had sent him ... to whatever part of New York this is ... had not felt very good either. In the way that Peter imagines being on fire also feels not very good. 

He hopes Mister Stark forgives him for not being able to make it to Avengers Tower. He'd tried! He'd been on his way! He'd been just about to change into his suit! 

Anyway, stuck where he is - somewhere between the pain of Black Widow and Thor - he's a little distracted. And who thought clowns would carry around a bomb? He's not exactly bringing his a-game when it comes to the fight or come-backs, is the important part. 

"How do you feel about crowbars?" the clown asks, and really, what kind of question is that?

"They're much better when used on prying apart wood than people," Peter answers, and he stands up, desperately wishing he actually had his suit, because he can smell blood, and not all of it is the clown's. Okay, most of it isn't the clown's blood at all. 

Peter definitely should have changed before he'd gotten almost the entire way to the Avengers ' Tower. But in his defense, it wasn't as though he'd expected a shockwave from the Tower to send him ... to some random part of New York that he's never seen before. 

He hopes it's still New York. 

"Tee hee. Actually, they work perfectly on people," the clown says. "Trust me, I should know. I have ... tee hee ... plenty of experience breaking pretty little birds with crowbars. You know, you remind me of him. Do you go tweet tweet for tall, dark, and handsome, too?"

Well, what the actual hell? 

"Buddy, I don't think I should trust you with anything," Peter says as he gets back up on his feet, and god, that whole flash of light that sent him must have really kicked his ass because standing straight has literally never hurt this much. 

Any way, it's not the best comeback, but that's okay, because a flash of black lands in front of him and - 

And is that a grown man dressed like a bat?

~

It had, in fact, been a grown man dressed as a bat.

That man is now patching Peter up. 

"I mean, I heal pretty well," Peter says, and he internally winces at how pathetic he sounds. 

The man looks at him through his honest-to-god Batmask. "You've lost a lot of blood," he rumbles and Peter doesn't mean to scoot closer, but he does.

In his head - which, admittedly, has been hit more than once today - MJ and Liz laugh at him. 

The man's mouth quirks up slightly. "Sit still," he says. 

"Sorry."

There's a pause, before the man says, "At least until I'm done." 

~ 

"Captain America? Iron Man? Thor? Black Widow?" Peter rattles off superheroes that everyone knows about, then pauses. "Hawkeye? Ant Man?" 

The man in the batman mask sits back in his chair, arms folded. "None of those sound familiar." 

"Okay... what part of New York is this that you've never heard of the Avengers?" 

"... You're in Gotham City." At Peter's blank look, the man tilts his head. "New Jersey." 

Well, that explains why it doesn't look anything at all like New York. "Man, the universe really does hate me if it's sending me to New Jersey."

"Or it's doing you a favor by getting you out of New York," the man retorts, which is really the kind of silly nonsense Peter expects someone from New Jersey to say. "Superman? Batman? Wonder Woman? The Flash?"

"Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and The Flash sounds like an awesome band name," Peter says. "Can their studio be in New York?" 

"No."

~

The man calls himself Batman.

No, really. 

Yes, Spider-Man is going to make fun of Batman as a name, because had he gotten bitten by a bat? Was that his origin? Had he been tested for rabies? Spider bites don't come with those kind of "hey, maybe rabies!" fears so Spider-Man is perfectly acceptable but Batman is weird. 

Admittedly, spiders do sometimes come with other concerns, but venom is not nearly as scary as rabies. No cute little puppies were killed in movies about venon, and rabies can't say the same. 

Peter figures that he will get home. He figures that the Avengers or MJ or Liz or maybe all of the above will find a way to come yell at him for being late. Maybe Aunt May will come to ground him for eighty-four years. That would be perfectly acceptable. 

Anyway, when that happens, Peter imagines trying to tell them that he spent the past week hanging out in a cave with some superhero named Batman whose main nemesis was a crowbar-wielding clown. 

Mister Stark is going to be so disappointed. Captain America would totally lecture him on ... on something. 

~ 

Maybe Captain America would show up and lecture Peter about the wisdom of having sex with a dude who calls himself "Batman" and lives in a cave. 

Does he live in a cave? There are stairs. Maybe he doesn't live here. Maybe the cave is ... underneath something important.

But that really isn't worth focusing on at the present. What is important is that hands - gloved hands because of course the entire costume is still on - are deliberately thumbing Peter's bottom lip. 

"You don't remind me of him," the man says. "I heard what The Joker said, but you aren't anything like Jason was." 

"Okay." Peter starts to make a joke, but he looks into the man's eyes and knows that joking about Jason - whomever he might have been - isn't something that can be done. Fair enough, because Peter isn't trying to get Jason's tongue into his mouth right now anyway. "Okay, but are you going to kiss me anyway?" 

The man's smiles are never anything more than smirks, but that smirk is really something ... and oh. It's even more of a something when it's crushing Peter's lips. 

Peter's back doesn't hurt anymore, but he suddenly can't feel his knees. But that's okay, because Batman's ridiculously large arms are holding him up just fine. 

The man pulls back and looks at Peter. "You can say no," he says, as he unbuttons Peter's pants. "Do you want to?" 

"I could throw you across the room if I didn't want you to continue," Peter answers, because even though the man's kisses make him feel all sorts of uncoordinated, Peter's still sure that's true. "But I'd much rather climb you." 

"... Climb me?" 

"Like a spider. Like a tree? Like a spider-tree!" 

Peter is saved from the mortification that his verbal fumbling causes when the man chuckles and falls to his knees in front of Peter. "Not exactly what I had in mind." 

The thing is that the man has been about as intense as Peter expects Bruce Banner to be with literally everything that he's said or done for the past week. 

Yeah, his blowjobs? Exactly the same, so Peter doesn't feel badly about the fact that he ends up desperately clutching at the man's hair and only managing to stand upright at all because one very determined gloved hand remains firmly on his abdomen the hold time. 

~ 

Peter comes on the Batsuit. 

That's something ... but also, apparently, Batman doesn't swallow. That's okay, that's fine; it's 2017, and Peter is not going to judge someone for whether or not they swallow. 

But he is going to stand there, a little dazed, and wonder how exactly it's going to get cleaned. It doesn't look like it would wash well; does he have extra? Peter hasn't seen any extra suits hanging around the cave, but maybe they exist. 

Either way, the man frowns down at him as Peter shakily gets down on his knees in front of Batman. He's shaking because god, who knew blowjobs were really as great as everyone always claimed, and also, his brain is almost as gone as his ability to stand straight. 

But maybe Batman is thinking that his inability to stand straight is due to something else, because he takes a step back.

"No," he says.

And Peter blinks up at him, because No is always an okay answer, but reciprocating is what you are supposed to do. So arguing seems relevant, but also incredibly rude.

But Peter doesn't have time, really, to wonder that all the way through, because Batman is gone before Peter can figure out what he's supposed to say.

~ 

Peter has just finished buttoning his jeans when an elderly man he's never seen before comes down the stairs.

See? Peter had known all along that the stairs were important. 

The man takes a disdainful sniff of the air and sighs. "Mistress Selina's refined taste? No. Master Clark's sense of integrity? No. Mistress Diana's affectionate nature? No. None of these were good enough, despite my none-too-subtle hints. Yet, here we are. With you." 

Peter doesn't have to be a genius to know he's been insulted. 

"Hey, I have plenty of integrity. And I'm super affectionate. It turns a lot of people off, really." Peter shifts uncomfortably. "Okay, I'm not very refined, but some people consider it part of my charm." 

"Really." The older man sighs. "Well, I would argue otherwise, but Master Bruce has made it his life's work to ignore my wishes. Come on, then, you've been granted permission to see the Manor." 

The older man starts to ascend the stairs and Peter starts to follow, wondering if "Master Bruce" and "Batman" are one and the same. He's not doing the Master thing - he is NOT - but "Bruce" kind of makes him think of The Hulk, and that's a boner killer.

Maybe it's going to stay "Batman." 

"Wait," he says, "Was the blowjob some sort of a test?" 

Some things sound better in your head than aloud, and Peter is sure that's one of them. 

The older man sighs, in a way that lets Peter know that he's heard far more foolish things. Which is impressive, really. Instead of answering his question, the older man says, "I think a shower is in order - "

"I already took one in the cave." 

"Another shower is in order. Feel free to make liberal use of our variety of soap," the older man says. "I have laid out some of Master Dick's clothes from before his growth spurt. They should fit. Please leave yours out so I can ... clean them." 

Peter scowls. Look, if Batman did swallow, things wouldn't have been as messy, but it's probably not the wisest course of action to mention that to a total stranger who is giving epic levels of dad-like disapproval. 

~

"We have a Bruce who's a hero in my universe, too," Peter says over dinner. He is sitting in someone's cruel idea of an outfit. It looks like it might have come from the 70s and has at least three colors that should not go together at all; that shade of purple should not be matched with that shade of orange or green. Peter doesn't know who the Great Frog was, but he figures they were this universe's equivalent of the Bee Gees based on the terrible shirts they put out. 

Also, "Master Dick" doesn't care for jeans, apparently, and didn't when he got in a time machine and went back to the 70s to buy the lavender corduroys that went with his ugly sweat-shirt. 

"He took most of the rest of his clothes with him," Alfred had explained, and no kidding, who wouldn't leave this one behind? "And I'm afraid that I simply cannot allow you to wear Master ... Jason's clothes."

Peter doesn't ask any more questions, but he wants to punch Dick and Jason both in the nose. 

The house is ridiculous, but it's ridiculous in the opposite way that Mister Stark's ... everything was. The house, like everything else in Gotham - for the ten minutes that Peter had been out in it, fighting evil clowns - looks at least two hundred years old. Mister Stark was obviously used to being rich in the 21st century; Bruce's house didn't seem to notice that time had marched past 1812. The downstairs, of course, is an entirely different matter and Peter wants nothing more than to get his fingers on the "batcomputer," because it seems like it could put literally all of Stark's technology to shame.

"What does he do?" Bruce asks as he cuts into ... a hamburger. Who in the world uses a knife and fork to eat a burger? 

"Oh. He gets really huge and super powerful whenever he gets angry," Peter tells him. 

"Hm. Sounds useful," Bruce says, and the older man sighs. 

"You would think so, Master Bruce." 

"It would certainly be effective in battle against some of our foes, Alfred." 

Alfred shakes his head. "You can always call your friends to help against your foes." 

"Your friends ... like the Avengers? Superman and - " Peter frowns, trying to remember the rest of the list that Batman had offered before. 

"Wonder Woman. The Flash.Cyborg. Aquaman," Bruce tells him. 

"Occasionally Green Lantern and Green Arrow," Alfred suggests. 

"No. He asked about my _friends_ ," Bruce answers, and ouch. Peter feels sorry for Green Lantern and Green Arrow, whoever they might be. 

Alfred rolls his eyes. He might be the most bizarre butler Peter's ever heard of. True, all of Peter's butlers up to this point have been fictional, but that's besides the point. 

"Yes, silly me for counting people who have saved your life on more than one occasion as your friends," Alfred says. "I am willing to bet that they are still worth a great deal more than these 'Avengers,' however." 

"Hey! The Avengers are great," Peter says, and then he kind of feels bad because Alfred puts another burger in front of him. It's burger three and Peter is pretty sure he could eat three more burgers, to be honest. "I mean. They were great. Before ... well... before they starting fighting. Over the accords. And before half of them went to prison. Well, more than half, really..." 

Peter trails off and the looks that Alfred and Bruce are giving him. Then he shrugs. "They were great. They might even be great again! They seemed like they were coming together because of the Infinity Stones - "

"The very reason you are here," Batman says, as if Peter needs a reminder. 

"... Probably. But that might be the Scarlet Witch's fault." 

"The Scarlet Witch is an Avenger," Batman reminds him, which he only knows because Peter told him that, so it's quite rude to remind Peter of anything. 

"I must say, your Avengers do not sound very impressive. I believe I'll stick with Ms. Peel," Alfred says. 

"Please, Alfred. Please do not share the details of your teenage fantasies," Batman pleads.

"Hmph. My teenage fantasies about Ms. Peel are the healthiest sexual activities to have ever taken place in this entire Manor since you entered adolescence, Master Bruce." 

~

Later, Bruce lets him come on "patrol." Peter is healed, so he wants nothing more than to show off, but the night is slow. It's too bad, really, because the suit he's wearing might be a cheap imitation of Bruce's suit, but it allows Peter to move so much more freely than Mister Stark's designs ever have. It's disloyal, Peter supposes, but he wonders what Bruce could design if given longer than a week to make him something to wear into battle. 

"So killer clowns aren't the norm for you?" Peter asks lightly as he webs three would-be muggers.

Batman's lips curl into an even more pronounced frown than usual. "Pretty normal," he growls. He does some weird thing when they are on patrol, where he growls whenever he speaks, and Peter doesn't really know what to think about that. It's weird? But pretty much everything about Batman is weird. 

Which doesn't make him the least little bit resistible. Peter's not sure when the "weird" fetish started. Liz is normal! Pretty much all of his crushes have been normal, even that tiny crush he had in seventh grade on his art teacher. Okay, especially that one, because Mister Maguire had been beautiful and so had his hands.

"Anyway, how do you know when to call it a night?" Peter asks. He doesn't growl, though, because spiders do not. Neither do bats, but like the deal with rabies, Batman has not received that memo. 

A brief smile crosses Batman's face. "Patience, Spider-Man. The sun won't come up for another three hours." 

~ 

Three hours is an eternity when all you want to do is jump your partner's bones, honestly. 

But Peter's patience is eventually rewarded, and Batman's bed is the softest bed Peter's ever been in in his entirely life. Okay, not like he's been in a lot of beds, but Peter is sure that the softness of the bed isn't just the sheets, but the bed itself, and wow, does being rich ever have its perks. Peter slides onto the bed and actually gasps at how soft it is. 

Bruce had shed most of the costume in the cave, and he stands in front of Peter in his pants only. There are so many scars all over that chest and Peter can't stop looking from those scars to the grey of his temples and ... he wants to touch everything all at once. 

Is this what a teacher kink is? Is this what it feels like? Was Mister Maguire the first clue? Is Mister Maguire the reason? All that unresolved sexual tension over the most beautiful hands to ever exist and this is where it all leads? To a gray-haired version of another universe's Captain America causing you to nearly come in your spandex when he reveals his scars to you?

Well, probably not, but maybe.

"What do you want, Peter?" Bruce asks, and his voice is so soft ... so opposite of those silly growls he insists upon while they are on patrol. "Tell me. Tell me what you want." 

"I ... " Peter trails off as Bruce comes near and cradles both sides of Peter's face. 

Peter instinctively wraps his legs around Bruce and pulls him closer. But no ... that's not what he wants. "Let me ..." he starts when Bruce's hands reach for his pants. 

"Let you what?" Bruce asks, and the scruff on his cheeks scratches against Peter's own cheeks. Peter's heart is pounding loudly in his chest but he makes himself answer. 

"Let me take care of you this time," Peter manages. He doesn't want to let go, but he does want what he's asking for. Bruce looks like he might say no, so Peter offers softly, "Please?" 

Bruce studies him for long enough that Peter is sure that he's going to say no. But finally, he says, "You'll have to move your legs from my waist, if that's what you want, Peter." 

Peter nods and forces his legs to cooperate, although he's pretty sure that staying here, wrapped up and around Bruce would also be nice. But there will be time for that ... later.

"Is there a special way to ... ah, remove these?" Peter asks as he reaches for Bruce's pants. "Is it the same design as my suit was?" 

Bruce laughs quietly. "Let me take care of that, then you can take care of me." 

"Promise?" Peter asks quietly, because sometimes rich older men like to give things and then take them away. 

"I promise," Bruce tells him.

~ 

Bruce keeps his promise and the problem is that his thighs are even more ridiculous than his chest had been. The scars are already doing ridiculous things to Peter's hormones, but god, the muscles. 

The muscles are hard as steel, and look like they could defeat Thor and the Hulk in a fight. Peter knows that's nonsense - Batman's a mere mortal and they are really not. But standing next to the bed, Peter is sure that those muscles could defeat Mjolnir. 

He hesitates too long, Peter knows, but Bruce doesn't rush him. He just lays there, and lets Peter stare for a minute, before Peter remembers how to move. 

It can't be the best blowjob Bruce has ever received; it's Peter's first blowjob, so he knows that other people have to be better at it. But Peter closes his eyes as Bruce's fingers brush Peter's hair back from his forehead once Peter takes Bruce into his mouth. 

The praise falls freely from Bruce's lips as he strokes Peter's hair. "Very good," he murmurs. "You feel amazing, Peter." 

That can't be true; first blowjobs statistically have to be awful. But the praise sounds so truthful, and it's so unexpected that Peter's overcome with a sudden need to touch all over again. His hands reach for those mucles of steel, and Bruce stills at the unexpected movement. 

"It's okay, Peter," Bruce assures him immediately. "You can touch me anywhere you want." 

And Peter does; his hands can't stop wandering over those hard muscles, feeling the bump of scars against his fingers, as he shifts to take more of Bruce into his mouth. 

A soft, strangled cry accompanies Peter's movements, and Bruce cups the back of his head. The praise is lighter and strained, but still there. "Good ... good job, son," he moans, and in that moment, Peter is sure he would do anything to hear Batman say that again.

~ 

Later, when Peter is exhausted and quite willing to slip off to dreamland, Bruce murmurs, "Tomorrow, I'm introducing you to Barry. He's a ... friend. He might be able to help get you home." 

"Sounds good," Peter says, which he thinks hides his homesickness pretty well. He misses Aunt May so very much. 

Peter falls asleep and dreams of Liz, MJ, and Captain America's thighs. The dream version of Mister Stark is very disappointed by the latter, but Peter is not.


	2. Chapter Two: DCEU Barry Allen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't even imagine a 'straight' Justice League," he says, in the same way that MJ might say "I can't even imagine being a Republican." Then he shakes his head, and overall, Peter feels very judged.

The thing about Batman is that he reminded Peter of all of Tony Stark's good traits ... without any of the bad (like the not answering Peter when he had a question ... or the questionable flirting with Peter's aunt .... or the judgement of all of Peter's lack of experience in comparison to a man who had been a hero for over a decade... or the weird anti-Cap hateboner). 

It's not a very charitable thought towards a man who had done so much for Peter, and part of Peter really hates himself for that stray thought of disloyalty. It isn't that he isn't grateful; it's just that when he imagined meeting Tony Stark, he expected more of the man that Bruce Wayne actually is ... and less of the man that Tony Stark turned out to be. 

The thing about Barry Allen is that right away, Peter is reminded of himself. There's so much nerd on display and Barry talks to Peter around and through all the objects in his lab as though it were his home. 

Barry Allen could totally win a real Stark Internship... if Stark Internships involved recruiting forensic scientists. 

"So there's a billionaire going around and financing your superfriends, too?" Barry asks, and before Peter could answer, Barry continues. "Weird how that is, that two universes are so different yet so similar. Kind of disappointing that your alternate Batman is just a rich dude in a suit and not something cool like a vampire. Although there are theories. Have you ever read - "

Correction: Barry Allen reminds Peter of himself if Peter's brain was capable of running at the speed of light. It's not, but he kind of desperately wants to take Barry home to meet Ned, Liz, and MJ. 

Scratch that: he'd settle for just being able to introduce Barry Allen to MJ. It would be the kind of comedic gold that Peter thinks that at least one universe owes him for sending him to _another_ universe entirely.

"... Are there any incredibly handsome speedsters in your universe?" Barry is asking. 

Peter looks across the table at that "incredibly handsome" face and curses his pale skin as he feels it flush bright red. "There used to be. I think you're a bit faster, though." 

"And more handsome, I hope," Barry teases, but he goes on before Peter can answer. " Are there any obnoxiously strong, incredibly handsome muscular dudes running around in red and blue in your universe?" 

Peter grins and nods. "I stole his shield," he says. Then he remembers he's talking to a cop. A sort of cop. "I mean! There was a war. A scuffle? Anyway, he technically broke the law. So the stealing was not as bad as it sounds. At all." 

Barry grins. "A war, huh? Your superheroes can't help all that extra 'scuffling' either? Supes and Bats had their little tiff, too."

"Oh...Bruce didn't tell me about that." 

Peter does remember, however, Bruce being very judgey about the Avengers' squabbles. Alfred had been, too! Maybe all billionaire superheroes were secretly judgemental jerks.

"Eh, Bruce is not the most sharing guy all the time... although..." Barry trials off and grins in a way that Peter would have been to understand even if he had still been a virgin.

So, even if it had been yesterday.

"Uh, so you and him are you ...?" Suddenly Peter feels very uncomfortable because Bruce hadn't mentioned that either, and "hey, I'm introducing you to my boyfriend" seems like a very polite thing to say when in fact, that's what you are doing. 

But to his surprise, Barry shrugs. "A little. Sometimes." He pauses to tap the computer screen in front of him before turning that smile back to Peter. "The Justice League ... we're all a little... prone to sharing...you know?" 

"No!" Peter says incredulously because surely he can't mean what Peter thinks he means. 

Barry frowns at him for the first time, as though there is something incredibly wrong with what Peter has just said. "The Avengers aren't ... intimate?" he asks.

Oh, god, he _does_ mean it. 

"You mean all ... all at once? Or one at a time or ...?" 

Barry shrugs and the smile is back. "A little of column A, a little of column B. Although I would hope it is two at a time because one at a time is not as fun. At least not in my experience. Especially when there's a whole _team_ full of people to help you out."

"That's." Peter pauses and looks at Barry for any indication that the whole "Justice League orgies" was a lie or something. But Barry looks pretty serious and actually, Peter is pretty sure that's sympathy he's receiving from Barry. 

Apparently, not being part of superhero orgy was worthy of sympathy here. Not that Peter is sure that's a terrible thing, because honestly, now he's thinking about Avengers orgies and it doesn't sound _awful_. 

Awful is the last word, actually. 

Barry is still looking at him patiently and with so much sympathy. 

"That's not something the Avengers do. I mean, most of them are pretty ... straight, I think?" 

Wow, that was definitely sympathy that Barry was projecting from across the table. 

"I can't even imagine a 'straight' Justice League," he says, in the same way that MJ might say "I can't even imagine being a Republican." Then he shakes his head, and overall, Peter feels very judged. 

"Ah, well. I mean... I didn't know them very well. There were rumors about Cap and Bucky, and okay, those might be true, because Cap pretty much did tell the whole world to go to hell over Bucky, but I think they might also just be friends?"

"Friendship is good," Barry agrees, humming slightly as he adjusts his calculations again. He slides the calculations over to Peter to look at and while Peter is looking at them, Barry continues. "But sometimes, when you don't know someone very well you aren't aware of their preferences. For example, I completely have Green Arrow convinced I'm straight _and_ a Republican."

"Had he met you at all?" Peter blurts out.

He wonders if it's rude only in the time that it takes Barry to laugh. "I know, right? Obviously queer, obviously Jewish, and obviously not a Republican. But GA's a little ... self-righteous." 

"Hey, this calculation is wrong." Peter corrects it before sliding the tablet over to Barry. "I mean, I still am not sure I 100% understand the Speed Force, but from what you've told me..."

"Hm, no, you're right. I still hate physics." Barry grimaces while Peter wonders who could ever hate physics. 

"So, the Green Arrow guy, is he your guys' archer?" 

"Eh, he's not really ours. Shows up sometimes," Barry corrects as he turns his attention to the treadmill behind him. "But yeah, he's a real pretentious Robin Hood wannabe. You guys have one?" 

"Sort of. Ours is a spy. And a war criminal." 

"Hmm. If Green Arrow was a spy or a war criminal, he might be more fun," Barry says lightly. Then more seriously, "You can never tell anyone I said that." 

"Oh, but why would I tell anyone that a _cop_ would rather sleep with a spy or a war criminal than his trusted teammate?" 

"Okay, for one, GA is _not_ my trusted anything," Barry says as he turns back to face Peter. 

"So he's not getting invited to the swinger parties, is what you're saying?" Peter asks. 

Barry is next to him faster than Peter can blink. "Swinger? That's a pretty serious word. We like the word 'sharing' a little more." Before yesterday, Peter wouldn't have expected to feel Barry's hand on his arm. "And since the treadmill needs some time to adjust to our calculations and since your team sucks at sharing, how would you like to indulge in a little sharing of our own?" 

"Oh ... are you going to invite Bruce, too?" 

"He's a little busy right now," Barry tells him. "And I'm not sure that you're quite ready for Justice League threesome yet." 

Well, that was fair and probably true. "Okay," Peter says. "Lead me on, Obi Wan." 

Barry raises his eyebrow. "Man, is there ever something wrong with your world if I'm the Obi-Wan of sex." 

~

Barry is a dirty liar, because he is _definitely_ the Obi-Wan of sex. 

Admittedly, Peter's experience is limited, but he can't imagine a world in which this is not amazing. 

"It's the most selfish benefit of my powers," Barry tells him as Barry's hand wraps around the base of Peter's cock and begins to honest to god vibrate. For a minute, Peter's vision swims, but then every single one of his senses rushes back online and the typically slow-building warmth that starts in his stomach and spreads is all over him. 

He tries to get out that it doesn't feel all that selfish to Peter, but his words get caught in his throat and all he can do is buck into Barry's enthusiastic hand. 

This is so different from Bruce ... Bruce who was a brick wall, next to the small, but very defined muscles of the man beside Peter at the moment. Bruce's entire body had taken over and every inch of the man had been devoted to bringing Peter pleasure. But all Barry had to do was slide one hand up and down his cock and Peter lost all attempts at coherency. 

"I'm ... I need to - " he tries to warn, but he ends up slamming his head back into the pillow and blindly grasping for Barry's still clothed hip. 

He misses his mark, because Barry's mouth is around Peter's cock in an instant, and unlike Batman, the Flash definitely swallows. In fact, the way Barry hums around Peter's dick while Peter comes makes it sound like there's literally nothing else that Barry would rather be doing than greedily drinking up every ounce of orgasm that Peter can produce. 

Barry pulls back and lets Peter collapse onto his back. "I mostly meant selfish in that it comes in handy when I masturbate, but yeah... it has it's non-selfish moments when I'm with someone else." 

"Yeah," Peter agrees. "I ... give me a sec, okay?"

"We still have twenty minutes until the treadmill's ready to try out," Barry tells him. "That's all the time in the world." 

"Sure, that's at least two justice league orgies, right?" 

Barry smirks at him. "Depends on who we invite. Too bad most of them aren't available." 

~

Later, Peter is standing next to the treadmill and saying goodbye to both Bruce and Barry, and his only regret is that he didn't get to try one of those orgies out. But the lingering homesickness tells him it's time to get on the treadmill and head back to his world, where the orgies are non-existent.


End file.
